soon entered a wild and hilly district, and while passing over the spur
of a rocky eminence on our left, observed close to the brink of the
cliffs overhanging our heads the huts of the pagan village Búggela, and
heard the voices of the natives, while at some distance on our right
detached hills, all of which seemed to consist of granite, rose from the
rugged and thickly-wooded plain. The rugged nature of this country
increases the importance of Badaníjo in a strategetical point of view.
The country became continually more rocky and rugged, and there was
scarcely a narrow path leading through the thick underwood, so that my
friend the pilgrim from Mélle, who rode his tall camel, had the greatest
possible trouble to make his way through; however, I had reason to
admire his dexterity. All through Negroland, where so many extensive
tracts are covered with forest, travelling on camel’s back is very
troublesome. It was certainly very lucky for us that for the last five
days scarcely any rain had fallen, otherwise the path would have been
extremely difficult.
However, when we reached the village Kurúlu, the country improved,
spreading out into wide pastures and cultivated fields, although it
remained hilly and rather rugged; even close to the village a lower
range appeared, and granite masses projected everywhere. A short
distance further on I sketched mount Kurúlu and the heights near it.
[Illustration]
Several of our party had gone into the village, and obtained some cold
paste, made of a peculiar species of sorghum, of entirely red colour.
This red grain, “ja-n-dáwa,” or “báiri bodéri,” which I have already had
occasion to mention, is very common in the southern parts of Negroland,
below the tenth degree of latitude, and in some districts, as in the
Músgu country, seems to prevail almost exclusively; but it was at the
time new to me, and I found it extremely nauseous. The paste of white
durra, “fári n dáwa,” or “báiri dhannéri,” is generally so well cooked
in Ádamáwa, being formed into large rolls of four inches in length, and
from two to three inches thick in the middle, that even when cold it is
quite eatable, and in this state generally formed my breakfast on the
road; for my palatable chébchebé from Kúkawa, like all nice things in
the world, were soon gone.
Gradually we entered another rugged wilderness, from which we did not
emerge till a quarter before ten o’clock, when a máriná, or dyeing
place, indicated the neighbourhood of a centre of civilization unusual
in this country. A few minutes more, and we reached the northern village
of Saráwu, which is inhabited almost exclusively by Bórnu people, and is
therefore called Saráwu Beréberé. On the side from which we arrived the
village is open, and does not seem to be thickly inhabited, but further
to the south the population is denser. Having halted some time on a
small open space in the middle of the village in the shade of a small
terebinth, we were conducted into very excellent quarters, which seem to
deserve a short description.
[Illustration]
It was a group of three huts, situated in the midst of a very spacious
outer yard which was surrounded by a light fence of corn stalks. The
huts consisted of clay walls with a thatched roof of very careful
workmanship, and were joined together by clay walls. The most spacious
of these huts (_a_), of about twelve feet in diameter, formed the
entrance-hall and the parlour, being furnished with two doors or
openings, one on the side of the outer, and the other on the side of the
inner courtyard, from which the two other huts (_b_ and _c_), destined
for the women, had their only access. The outer opening or door of the
chief hut (_a_), therefore, although rather small according to our
ideas, was very large considering the general custom of the country,
measuring three feet and a half in height, and sixteen inches in the
widest part, its form being that of an egg.
In this hut there was only one very large couch measuring seven feet and
a half in length by five in width, and raised three feet above the
floor, made of clay over a frame of wood, on the right side of the door,
where the landlord used to receive his guests, the remaining part of the
hut being empty, and capable of receiving a good many people. Between
the couch and the door there was a fire-place, or fúgodí, or fúgo
kánnurám in Kanúri, “hobbunírde” in Fulfúlde, formed by three stones of
the same size. Of this airy room I myself took possession, spreading my
carpet upon the raised platform, while the mʿallem, my servants, and
whosoever paid me a visit, found a place on the floor. The wall, which
was rather thicker than usual, was all coloured with a reddish brown
tint, and upon this ground several objects had been so unartistically
delineated, that, with the exception of wooden tablets, “alló,” such as
the boys here use in learning to write, it was impossible to tell what
they were intended for.
The hut opposite this parlour (_b_), which was smaller than (_a_) but
larger than (_c_), seemed intended for the ordinary dwelling of the
landlady, being ornamented in the background with the “gángar,” as it is
called in Kanúri, “nanne” in Fulfúlde, a raised platform or sideboard
for the cooking utensils; here four large-sized new jars were placed, as
in battle array, surmounted by smaller ones. With regard to the other
arrangements the two huts were of similar construction, having on each
side a couch, one for the man and the other for his wife. In both the
woman’s couch was the better one, being formed of clay on a wooden
frame, and well protected from prying eyes by a thin clay-wall, about
five feet high, and handsomely ornamented in the following way: running
not only along the side of the door, but enclosing also half of the
other side, it excluded all impertinent curiosity; while the man’s
couch, which was less regular and comfortable, reached to the very
border of the door, and on this side had the protection only of a thin
clay-wall, without ornaments. With the privacy thus attained, the size
of the doors was in entire harmony, being of an oval shape, and very
small, particularly in (_c_), measuring only about two feet in height,
and ten inches in width, a size which I am afraid would refuse a passage
to many a European lady; indeed, it might seem rather intended to keep a
married lady within doors, after she had first contrived to get in.
[Illustration]
Notwithstanding the scanty light falling into the interior of the hut,
through the narrow doorway, it was also painted, (_c_) in this respect
surpassing its sister hut in the harmony of its colours, which formed
broad alternate bands of white and brown, and gave the whole a very
stately and finished character. The whole arrangement of these two huts
bore distinct testimony to a greatly developed sense of domestic
comfort.
In the wall of the courtyard, between (_b_) and (_c_), there was a small
back-door, raised above the ground, and of diminutive size (_f_),
apparently intended for admitting female visitors, without obliging them
to pass through the parlour, and at the same time showing much
confidence in the discretion of the female department. In the courtyard
were two large-sized jars, (_g_) the larger one being the bázam or corn-
jar, and the smaller (_d_) the gébam or water-jar. In the corner, formed
between the hut (_a_) and the wall of the courtyard, was the “fúgodí,”
or kitchen, on a small scale.
The house belonged to a private man, who was absent at the time. From
the outer courtyard, which, as I have observed, was spacious, and fenced
only with corn-stalks, there was an interesting panorama over a great
extent of country to the south, and I was enabled to take a great many
angles. From this place also I made the following sketch of a cone which
seemed to me very picturesque, but the exact name of which I could not
learn.
[Illustration]
Saráwu is the most elevated place on the latter part of this route,
although the highest point of the water-partition, between the basin of
the Tsád and that of the so-called Niger, as I stated before, seems to
be at the pass north of Úba. The difference between the state of the
corn here and in Múbi and thereabout was very remarkable. The crop stood
here scarcely a few inches above the ground.[109] The soil also around
the place is not rich, the mould being thin upon the surface of the
granite, which in many places lies bare. The situation of Saráwu is very
important on account of its being the point where the road from Logón
and all the north-eastern part of Ádamáwa, which includes some very
considerable centres of industry and commerce, particularly Fátawel, the
_entrepôt_ of all the ivory trade in these quarters, joins the direct
road from Kúkawa to the capital. Cotton is cultivated here to some
extent. Ádamáwa is a promising country of colonies.
Saráwu, too, was suffering from dearth from the same reason which I have
explained above; the second crop, which is destined to provide for the
last and most pressing period, while the new crop is ripening, not
having been sown at all last year on account of the expedition, so that
we had great difficulty in obtaining the necessary corn for our five
horses. It would, however, have been very easy for me to obtain a
sufficient supply if I had demanded a small fee for my medical
assistance, as I had a good many patients who came to me for remedies;
but this I refrained from doing. I had here some very singular cases,
which rather exceeded my skill; and among others there was a woman who
had gone with child full two years, without any effort on the part of
her imaginary offspring to come forth, and who came to me now with full
confidence that the far-famed stranger would be able to help her to
motherhood. Among the people who visited me there was also a Tébu, or
rather Tedá, who in his mercantile rambles had penetrated to this spot;
indeed these people are very enterprising, but in general their journeys
lie more in the direction of Wándalá, where they dispose of a great
quantity of glass beads. This man had resided here some time, but was
not able to give me much information.[110] He, however, excited my
curiosity with regard to two white women, whom I was to see in Yóla,
brought there from the southern regions of Ádamáwa, and who he assured
me were at least as white as myself. But, after all, this was not saying
much; for my arms and face at that time were certainly some shades
darker than the darkest Spaniard or Italian. I had heard already several
people speak of these women, and the natives had almost made them the
subject of a romance, spreading the rumour that my object in going to
Yóla was to get a white female companion. I shall have occasion to speak
about a tribe of lighter colour than usual in the interior, not far from
the coast of the Cameroons, and there can be no doubt about the fact. My
short and uncomfortable stay in the capital of Ádamáwa deprived me of
the opportunity of deciding with regard to the exact shade of these
people’s complexion, but I think it is a yellowish brown.
[Sidenote: Sunday, June 15th.]
Having been busy in the morning writing Fulfúlde, I mounted my horse
about ten o’clock, accompanied by Bíllama and Bú-Sʿad, in order to visit
the market, which is held every Thursday and Sunday, on a little
eminence at some distance from the Bórnu village, and close to the S.E.
side of Saráwu Fulfúlde, separated from the latter by a ravine. The
market was furnished with thirty-five stalls made of bushes and mats,
and was rather poorly attended. However, it must be taken into
consideration, that during the season of field-labours all markets in
Negroland are much less considerable than at other seasons of the year.
There were a good many head of cattle for sale, while two oxen were
slaughtered for provision, to be cut up and sold in small parcels. The
chief articles besides were groundnuts, butter, a small quantity of
rice, salt, and soap. Soap, indeed, is a very important article in any
country inhabited by Fúlbe, and it is prepared in every household; while
very often, even in large places inhabited by other tribes, it is quite
impossible to obtain this article, so essential for cleanliness. No
native grain of any kind was in the market,—a proof of the great dearth
which prevailed throughout the country. A few túrkedí were to be seen;
and I myself introduced a specimen of this article, in order to obtain
the currency of the country for buying small matters of necessity.
The standard of the market is the native cotton, woven, as it is, all
over Negroland, in narrow strips called “léppi,” of about two inches and
a quarter in width, though this varies greatly. Shells (“kurdí,” or
“chéde”) have no currency. The smallest measure of cotton is the
“nánandé,” measuring ten “drʿa” or “fóndudé” (_sing._ “fóndukí”), equal
to four fathoms, “káme” or “nándudé” (_sing._ “nándukí[111]”). Seven
nánandé make one “dóra”—meaning a small shirt of extremely coarse
workmanship, and scarcely to be used for dress; and from two to five
dóra make one thób or “gaffaléul”[112] of variable size and quality. The
túrkedí which I introduced into the market, and which I had bought in
Kanó for 1800 kurdí, was sold for a price equivalent to 2500 shells,
which certainly is not a great profit, considering the danger of the
road. However, it must be borne in mind that what I bought for 1800, a
native certainly would have got for 1600, and would perhaps have sold
for 2800 or more.
Having caused some disturbance to the usual quiet course of business in
the market, I left Bú-Sʿad behind me to buy some articles which we
wanted, and proceeded with my kashélla towards the ravine, and ascending
the opposite bank, entered the straggling quarter of the Fúlbe, which,
in a very remarkable manner, is adorned with a single specimen of the
charming gonda-tree, or “dukúje” (the _Carica papaya_), and a single
specimen of the gigiña or dugbi, the _Hyphæna_ which I have frequently
mentioned; at all events not more than these two specimens are seen
rearing their tapering forms above the huts and fences. Then we directed
our steps towards the dwelling of the governor, which impressed me by
its magnificence when compared with the meanness of the cottages around.
A very spacious oblong yard, surrounded with a high clay wall, encircled
several apartments, the entrance being formed by a round cool hut of
about twenty-five feet diameter, the clay walls of which, from the
ground to the border of the thatched roof, measured about ten feet in
height, and had two square doors of about eight feet in height, one
towards the street, and the other on the inside,—altogether a splendid
place in the hot season. Here, too, the floor was at present thickly
strewn with pebbles.
But the master of this noble mansion was an unhappy blind man, who,
leaning upon the shoulders of his servants, was led into the room by a
mʿallem or módibo, one of the finest men I have seen in the country, and
more like a European than a native of Negroland, tall and broad-
shouldered, and remarkably amiable and benevolent. The governor himself,
also, was remarkably tall and robust for a Púllo. The módibo, who spoke
Arabic tolerably well, and officiated as interpreter, had heard a good
deal about me, and was most anxious to see those curious instruments
which had been described to him; and as I wore the chronometer and
compass constantly attached to my waist, I was able to satisfy his
curiosity, which, in so learned a man, was less vain and more
interesting than usual. But the poor blind governor felt rather uneasy
because he could not see these wonders with his own eyes, and
endeavoured to indemnify himself by listening to the ticking of the
watch, and by touching the compass. But he was more disappointed still
when I declared that I was unable to restore his sight, which, after all
the stories he had heard about me, he had thought me capable of doing;
and I could only console him by begging him to trust in “Jaumiráwo” (the
Lord on High). As, on setting out, I did not know that we were going to
pay our respects to this man, I had no present to offer him except a
pair of English scissors, and these of course, in his blindness, he was
unable to value, though his companion found out immediately how
excellent they were for cutting paper. The governor is far superior in
power to his neighbours, and besides Saráwu, Kurúndel, or Korúlu, and
Bíngel are subject to his government.
While recrossing the ravine on my return to Saráwu Beréberé, I observed
with great delight a spring of water bubbling up from the soil, and
forming a small pond—quite a new spectacle for me. After I had returned
to my quarters I was so fortunate as to make a great bargain in cloves,
which I now found out were the only article in request here. The Bórnu
women seemed amazingly fond of them, and sold the nánande of léppi for
thirty cloves, when, seeing that they were very eager to buy, I raised
the price of my merchandise, offering only twenty-five. I had also the
luck to buy several fowls and sufficient corn for three horses, with a
pair of scissors; and as my mʿallem Katúri had several old female
friends in the village who sent him presents, we all had plenty to eat
that day. But nevertheless my old friend the mʿallem was not content,
but, in the consciousness of his own merits, picked a quarrel with me
because I refused to write charms for the people, while they all came to
me, as to the wisest of our party; and had I done so, we might all have
lived in the greatest luxury and abundance.
In the evening, while a storm was raging outside, Bíllama gave me a list
of the most important persons in the capital of the country which we
were now fast approaching. Mohammed Lowel, the son of Mʿallem Ádama, has
several full-grown brothers, who all figure occasionally as leaders of
great expeditions, and also others of more tender age. The eldest of
these is Bú-Bakr (generally called Mʿallem Bágeri), who last year
conducted the great expedition towards the north; next follows Aíjo;
then Mʿallem Mansúr, a man whom Bíllama represented to me as of special
importance for me, on account of his being the favourite of the people,
and amicably disposed towards Bórnu; ʿOmáro; Zubéru; Hámidu. Of the
other people, he represented to me as the most influential—Móde Hassan,
the kádhi; Móde ʿAbd-Alláhi, the secretary of state; and the Ardo
Ghámmawa, as commander of the troops. As the most respectable Háusa
people settled in Yóla, he named Káiga Hámma, Serkí-n-Góber, Mai Konáma,
Mágaji-n-Hadder, Mai Hadder, and Búwári (Bokhári).
I introduce this notice, as it may prove useful in case of another
expedition up the river Bénuwé.
[Sidenote: Monday, June 16th.]
Starting at an early hour we passed the market-place, which to-day was
deserted, and then left the Púllo town on one side. The country being
elevated, and the path winding, we had every moment a new view of the
mountains around us; and before we began to descend I made the
accompanying sketch of the country behind us, stretching from N. 30 E.
to E. 20 N.
[Illustration]
The country continued rugged and rocky, though it was occasionally
interrupted by cultivated ground, and a mountain group of interesting
form, called Kónkel, stood out on our right.
[Illustration]
Having entered at eight o’clock upon cultivated ground of great extent,
we reached a quarter of an hour afterwards Bélem, the residence of
Mʿallem Dalíli, a man whom I had heard much praised in Saráwu. Bíllama
wished to spend the day here, but I was very anxious to proceed, as we
had already lost the preceding day; but at the same time I desired to
make the acquaintance of, and to pay my respects to, a person whom every
one praised for his excellent qualities. I therefore sent forward the
camels with the men on foot, while I myself entered the village with the
horsemen. Crossing a densely inhabited quarter, we found the mʿallem
sitting under a tree in his courtyard, a venerable and benevolent-
looking old man, in a threadbare blue shirt and a green “báki-n-záki.”
We had scarcely paid our respects to him, and he had asked a few general
questions in Arabic, when an Arab adventurer from Jedda, with the title
of sheríf, who had roved a good deal about the world, made his
appearance, and was very inquisitive to know the motives which had
carried me into this remote country; and Bú-Sʿad thought it prudent to
pique his curiosity, by telling him that we had come to search for the
gold and silver in the mountains. Old Mʿallem Dalíli soon after began to
express himself to the effect that he should feel offended if I would
not stay with him till the afternoon; and I was at length obliged to
send for the camels, which had already gone on a good way.
A rather indifferent lodging being assigned to me, I took possession of
the shade of a rími, or béntehi,—the bentang-tree of Mungo Park
(_Eriodendron Guinense_), of rather small size, and there tried to
resign myself quietly to the loss of another day, while in truth I
burned with impatience to see the river, which was the first and most
important object of my journey. However, my quarters soon became more
interesting to me, as I observed here several peculiarities of
arrangement, which, while they were quite new to me, were most
characteristic of the equatorial regions which I was approaching. For
while in Bórnu and Háusa it is the general custom to expose the horses,
even very fine ones, to all changes of the weather—which on the whole
are not very great,—in these regions, where the wet season is of far
longer duration and the rains much heavier, it is not prudent to leave
the animals unsheltered, and stables are built for them on
purpose,—round spacious huts with unusually high clay walls; these are
called “debbíru” by the Fúlbe of Ádamáwa, from the Háusa word “débbi.”
Even for the cattle there was here a stable, but more airy, consisting
only of a thatched roof supported by thick poles, and enclosed with a
fence of thorny bushes.
The vegetation in the place was very rich, and an experienced botanist
might have found many new species of plants, while to me the most
remarkable circumstance was the quantity of _Palma Christi_ scattered
about the place, a single specimen of the gonda-tree, and the first
specimen of a remarkable plant which I had not observed before on my
travels,—a smooth soft stem about ten inches thick at the bottom, and
shooting up to a height of about twenty-five feet, but drawn downwards
and inclined by the weight and size of its leaves, which measured six
feet in length and about twenty inches in breadth. The Háusa people gave
it the name “alléluba,” a name generally given to quite a different tree
which I have mentioned in speaking of Kanó. The plant bears some
resemblance to the _Musa_, or banana; fruits or flowers it had none at
present.
I had been roving about for some time when the sheríf, whom I mentioned
above, came to pay me a visit, when I learned that he had come to this
place by way of Wadáy and Logón, and that he had been staying here
already twenty days, being engaged in building a warm bath for the
mʿallem, as he had also done for the sultan of Wadáy.
The reader sees that these wandering Arabs are introducing civilization
into the very heart of this continent, and it would not be amiss if they
could all boast of such accomplishments; but this rarely happens. Even
this very man was a remarkable example of those saintly adventurers so
frequently met with in Negroland, but who begin to tire out the patience
of the more enlightened princes of the country. He brought me a lump of
native home-made soap, with which, as he said, I might “wash my clothes,
as I came from the dirty, _soapless_ country of Bórnu.” This present was
not ill-selected, although I hope that the reader will not thence
conclude that I was particularly dirty,—at least not more so than an
African traveller might be fairly expected to be. I had laid in a good
store of cloves, which, as I have had already occasion to mention, are
highly esteemed here, so I made him very happy by giving him about half
a pound weight of them.